


music to knit a broken heart

by Nanimok



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chinese Food, F/M, Fluff, Food, Getting to Know Each Other, Identity Porn, Luka Couffaine is Viperion, Lukanette, Secret Identity, Viperion!Luka, in this house we ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 10:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18519148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanimok/pseuds/Nanimok
Summary: Vigilante Viperion!Luka AUMarinette saves a down on his luck musician and makes a lifelong friend.





	music to knit a broken heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RenderedReversed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenderedReversed/gifts).



> I'm actually out of my home country and I forgot to bring my computer so this was all written on my phone. [Marinette comes first](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18427991) I guess.

None of Ladybug’s fabled miraculous luck has helped her figure out Viperion. He’s ruthless, for one. A vigilante out for justice at the expense of others, methodical and thorough. Yet, he’s kind to most civilians, respectful and, dare Marinette say, compassionate to people who doesn't deserve his ire.

There are even times where the three of them work together to take Akumas down. Ladybug and Chat Noir has tried time and time again to talk Viperion into joining their side to no avail. Ever since they’ve met—ever since she and Chat Noir began fighting him—Viperion still remains an enigma.

She knows there’s good in him. She knows that there’s more to Viperion than petty revenge. It’s clear, however, that Viperion is not interested in proving either Ladybug nor Chat Noir otherwise. He just slithers in, exacts his revenge on the poor victim and slither out. Clean, quick, and efficient.

Sometimes, Marinette spends so much time thinking about Viperion that she forgets everything else she’s doing that day.

She’s walking from Jagged Stone’s recording studio, fresh from exchanging ideas for his next album cover when she hears it. The most odious voice from the next room, belonging from the most odious, conniving man she’s ever known, ringing out from a gap on the door to his office.

“—clearly lying,” Bob Roth says.

“I am not!” a new voice says, young and unfamiliar. “You are the one that’s lying!”

“Ridiculous!”

“They were my creation and I can prove it! I uploaded it on the internet long before XY ever released it as a single,” the voice says. “It was my composition and you stole it. Just admit it!”

Marinette can’t stop the pity and horror that surges inside her. Oh, to have your own creation stolen from you—a creating in which you’ve spent numeral hours and emotional labour in crafting in. That’s absolutely horrible!

There’s not a second where she considers Bob Roth innocent, because it seems definitely like something he would do. He’s one of the shadiest figures in the music business after all. Marinette quickly brings her phone out and sets it on record.

Quietly, and as sneakily as she can, she tiptoes over until her phone catches a peek of Bob Roth in between the slither of the open door.

“Ha!” Bob Roth places on hand on his belly and roars with laughter. “So what if I did steal it? As if anyone would ever listen to you! Who would the public believe? The manager of a longstanding, reputable record label with disposable income or a snotty, teenage kid desperate to launch his own music career?”

There’s a moment of silence in reply.

Marinette could imagine that whoever’s talking would probably be too filled with anger and frustration to reply. That would certainly be her reaction if she were in that situation.

“Listen here, Lucas—”

“It’s _Luka.”_

“Luk-whatever-it-is,” Roth says, advancing towards the person with each word he utters until he’s almost out of the frame. “I’m going to need you to do me a favour and _shut the hell up_ with these accusations. If I ever hear even a _whisper_ of these things, I’m going to come for you _and_ your family! So don’t even think about it unless you can gather up an army of lawyers—”

That’s enough for Marinette. She records until Roth finishes his tirade, rewinds the video and plays it on full volume.

_“So what if I did steal it? As if anyone would ever believe you! Who would the public listen to? The manager of a longstanding, reputable record label with disposable income or a snotty, teenage kid—”_

When Marinette steps into the room, Roth’s face is as chalky and white as a piece of paper, and a boy with blue hair is gaping at her from the side of the room.

As if he flicks on a switch, Roth’s face turns as red as a steam train. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, kid, but how _dare_ you—”

“You are in no place to be making threats, Mr. Roth,” Marinette says firmly. “Either you give Luka the credit he deserves, or I upload the video on the internet.”

“You—”

“No _threats,_ Mr. Roth. I mean it!” Marinette quickly brings up a picture on her phone. “I’m sure the whole world would be interested with what you had to say, especially if my good friend Jagged Stone uploads it on his account!”

Roth takes one look at the picture of Jagged Stone slinging his arm around Marinette’s shoulders, and turns completely white again.

The moment he visibly swallows is the moment Marinette knows that she’s got him right where she wants him.

 

* * *

 

They scamper out of the office once Roth agrees to give Luka credit. Marinette doesn't delete the video yet, however. She won't until Luka's credit for the composition is public and official. It's always good to keep some form of insurance against guys like Roth. Otherwise, they just can't be trusted.

“That was,” Luka breathes out. “ _Amazing._ You’re amazing. Are you my guardian angel? _”_

“What?” Marinette reels back, all of her previous courage gone under the intense stare of a stranger. “N-no! I’m no one’s guardian angel! I’m just ma-ma—”

“Ma-ma?”

“—Marinette! That is—” Marinette turns red, “That’s my name! Marinette—I’m Marinette!”

Figures that she would mess up her own name before repeating it a million times after. And now her cheeks are blazing with fire and she can’t cool herself down. Marinette wonders where her steel nerves go whenever she’s not Ladybug.

She would very much like them to come back.

“Well, Ma-Ma-Marinette,” Luka says. “You swooped in from nowhere and saved me like my own personal guardian angel. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Luka holds his hand out and Marinette stares at it, her mind whizzing in all directions.

Goodness, she messed up quite a lot of the interaction, didn't she?  Is she going to always be called Ma-Ma-Marinette now?

Seeing that his hand isn’t being shaken, Luka smiles and it’s a lil apologetic. “I’m sorry,” he says. “It’s rude of me to make fun of someone who has just saved me from musical ruin. You must be Juleka’s Marinette. I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Luka Couffaine.”

The surname pique’s Marinette’s memory. “Are you Juleka’s brother?”

“Yes, I am,” Luka says. “And I don’t think I’ve even thanked you for what you’ve done yet. How very rude of me.”

Marinette finally shakes his hand, and his grip is warm, much like the way he’s beaming at her. It’s almost unbearable to look at, the sparkling sincerity in his eyes.

“No, no! There’s no need,” Marinette says. “Anyone would’ve done the same thing I did. Bob Roth is nothing but a bully, and he is one of the most despicable man I’ve ever met.”

Luka tilts his head at her, as if he’s considering her. “No,” he announces. “I can guarantee that not everybody would do what you just did. Bob Roth, for one, would probably pay thousands of dollars than admit his wrong doing.”

“Well, Mr. Roth doesn't have a moral bone in his body,” Marinette says. “That's what my friend Penny says. He doesn't count.”

“Still,” Luka says. “Not everybody could be as brave and resourceful as you were under pressure, but it seems like a very Marinette-thing to do from Juleka’s stories of you. So I'm not surprised, only immensely grateful.”

“I—I—” Marinette resist from burying her head into the ground. “She tells stories about me?”’

“Of course. You are her friend, after all,” Luka says. “Sometimes, it feels like I know you, even though we’ve never met. Are you free for the afternoon? I would like to thank you more properly with lunch if that’s alright with you?”

The blue of his hair is so bright and beautiful—almost neon, in a way. Marinette can’t tear her eyes away from it.  It takes a couple of minutes for Marinette to realise that they’re still holding hands from the handshake. She drops Luka’s hands like it's made of fire and resists the urge to explode from embarrassment.

“No! I mean, yes! I’m completely free!” Marinette says. “This afternoon, I mean, not for life, because, well, you never know what life throws at you and you should seize every opportunity where you can find them—and I’m just going to stop rambling now. I’m so sorry about this.”

Marinette plasters on a nervous smile, hoping that she hasn’t scared Luka off. Instead of running away in terror from her awkward ramblings, Luka laughs in delight.

“You’re funny, Marinette,” Luka says, and there he goes again with that soft smile and intense stare. “I think we’re going to be great friends. I feel very lucky to have met you.”

 

* * *

 

One hour turns into two, and two almost turns into three. It starts with Jagged Stone before veering everywhere and nowhere at once. Marinette can't recall being so lost in conversation she almost forgets to slip food into her bag for Tikki. She makes sure Tikki gets a big helping of her dessert in apology.

Talking with Luka is nice. He is attentive and he listens, yet he always moves the conversation along. She can easily do this for hours, and that’s not something she says about everyone.

Marinette knows that she's shy and timid. Downplaying her achievements and actions was how she was always raised to be, and she is proud to be raised that way. She is still proud even when the quality backfires on her and she find herself lost for words. Sometimes her timidity is the reason her friends are grumbling and most times, Marinette can’t help but feel the frustration with them.

Which is why Luka is so refreshing to be with. He doesn't seem interested in changing her or pushing her to be in any way different. He is simply interested in _her._

“So you've never tried an egg tart before?” Marinette asks, incredulous.

Luka shakes his head. “Nope.”

“What about mooncakes?”

“Only once.”

“The egg ones?”

“Nope.” Luka shakes his head. “It's… how do you say it. I hope I don't butcher this but…” Luka peers at her in with expectancy. “door-ree-yen?”

Marinette can't help herself. She giggles like crazy.

Luka groans. “I'm guessing I completely butchered it.”

“I wouldn't say _completely…”_ Marinette says. “Although I've eaten steak that were more alive than that poor word.”

“You are a harsh critic, Marinette.”

“Hardly,” Marinette says. “Would you… well…”

She plays with the straps of her bag while Luka smiles patiently at her.

 _Do it, Marinette!_ she scolds herself. _Before we collapse from old age!_

“Would you like to taste some of the mooncakes in our bakery?” Marinette blurts out. “We have red bean, egg yolk, matcha, taro, durian and all sorts of other flavours.”

“Yes!” Luka says. “I'd be happy to. If your parents don't mind that is.” He pauses for a second. “What's a tah-roe?”

Marinette purses her lips. A giggle escapes her lips again.

“That was an adorable effort,” she says.

Luka's cheeks are dusted a little pink. “Mercy on me, Marinette. Compared to all your expert pastry, I'm simply a humble piece of plain white bread.”

“White bread is simple, yes,” Marinette says. “But also it's also sweet and soft.”

Luka perks up, pleased at her descriptions, and ruffles his own hair. “Fluffy too?”

“Super fluffy,” she tells him. “The fluffiest.”

 

* * *

 

When they finally decide to part ways—and what a hard decision it was, Marinette admits to herself—Luka rummages in his pocket. He offers her a Jagged Stone guitar pick.

“Here,” he says. “I want you to have this.”

Marinette begins shaking her head. “No, I couldn’t—”

“It’s alright,” he says. “I have another one at home. You should have it.”

Maybe he saw the way Marinette had been eyeing up the guitar pick earlier in the afternoon. Marinette thinks on it and decides to take his gift.

“Thank you, Luka,” she says, looking up at him. “You should play some of your music for me sometime.”

“I busk around the city quite often,” Luka says. “I would love for you to come and watch.”

Her heart thumps in her rib cage.

_He would love for her to come and watch!_

Marinette feels a little dizzy from the thought.

Tikki rustles her bag so that it bumps against her hand. Marinette realises that she’s been staring at Luka for the last couple of seconds without having answered his question.

“Yes!” Marinette says. “Of course. I’ll—send me the details?”

Luka grins at her like she has just given him the world. “Definitely.”

 

* * *

 

Luka is very talented, Marinette finds out. He listens and strums melodies in a way that Marinette has never seen before. Whenever he struggles with a piece, he tells her, instead of tearing his hair out, he meditates. As opposed to Marinette’s frazzled and hectic burst of energy when she creates, Luka is a calm ocean wave lulling her soul into tranquility.

Marinette worries a lot. She worries that she's too intense, bombarding Luka with texts before disappearing for long stretches of time when she's concentrating on her projects. But Luka never seems to mind. He has his own moments where he disappears for hours at a time. It feels like a small daily treat for her, opening her phone and finding a small, silly joke from Luka.

“I like him,” Tikki mentions earlier morning. “He makes you smile!”

“You’ve been in a good mood lately.”

Marinette only slightly snaps out of her daydreaming from where she’s resting her head on her hand. “Hmm?” she asks. “What did you say, Alya?”

Alya slides into the chair beside her  “I said you’ve been in a good mood lately. I don’t think Adrien’s done anything that would warrant a swoon today,” Alya says, shaking her head. “Unless you're finding the garden cafe utterly swoonworthy.  Something you want to tell us, Marinette?”

Truthfully, Marinette hasn't been thinking about Adrien as much. “I like botanical gardens,” Marinette says.

 _I may like Luka more,_ a small part of Marinette whispers.

“Oh? Really?” Alya smirks. “Because Juleka told me that you've got a certain boy camping by his phone singing wistfully as he waits for your love letters to arrive.”

If Marinette had food in her mouth, she would have choked on it. She coughs, patting her chest, and turns to where Juleka and Rose are peeking from behind the statue.

They both wave cheerily at her.

“He's not!” Marinette denies vehemently. “We don't send love letters!”

“Ah, but you _have_ been talking.”

Marinette resists the urge to hide in the bushes. “Maybe. He's…” She breaks off into a sigh. “Wonderful,” she decides on, “but we're just friends.”

“Just friends, huh?”

“Just friends,” she says again. “Besides, there's still Adrien.”

Alya raises one eyebrow, looking unconvinced.

Marinette slumps onto the table.  “I know, I know. My feelings are weak and fickle. But being friends with Luka is so _different_ from being friends with Adrien. I simply… _forgot_ about Adrien.”

“Wow,” Alya says. “I guess there's a first for everything.”

_“Stop!”_

The cry breaks their attention.

In the far distance, two blurs coming closer and closer—a police officer shouting in a megaphone, huffing puffing after a sprinting—

_Viperion?_

They're heading to them. Alya scrambles for her phone. Marinette places one hand on her bag, thumb brushing against the top of Tikki's head—

Time slows into a sluggish crawl.

With a grace that Chat Noir would envy, Viperion somersaults onto their table. Before his feet lands on the table, beside Alya's tray of food, he twists his upper torso, catches Marinette's gaze—

—and he winks at Marinette.

The moment bolts forward as fast as Viperion does, leaving the police officer wheezing behind him, and Alya and Marinette gaping behind them.

Alya picks her jaw up from the ground. “Did Viperion, the most elusive, reserved, almost-cryptid superhero just—”

“—winked at me?” Marinette finishes for her.

They stare at each other, before staring off into the direction Viperion ran off in.

 

* * *

 

“So what did you say this was again?” Luke asks, peering down his straw.

“A revelation,” Marinette replies. “The most scrumptious thing you'll ever have in your life.”

She takes a hearty sip of sweet milky, matcha tea with cheese foam, and chews on her tapioca pearls.

“Also known as boba, or bubble tea,” Marinette says in between slurps.

After examining his drink for what seems like years, Luka shrugs his shoulders and also gives a hearty sip.

He chokes on his drink, smacking his chest while he coughs.

“Luka!” Marinette rubs his back. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, sorry, I,” Luka clears his throat, “I thought the pearls were softer than they actually were. They were like cannonballs slamming straight at the back of my throat.”

She knows that Luka's in pain but she can't help but snort. “That's a little funny.”

“Have I ever mentioned that you are a harsh mistress, Marinette?” Luka says. “Oh dear, some of it almost went up my nose.”

Marinette doesn't laugh at his suffering but it's close. She does, however, fetch him napkins and hold his drink while he wipes at his shirt.

“Just imagine if it was a hot drink,” Marinette says, giggling. “You're a lucky man indeed, Luka.”

Luka's eyes creases when he smiles. Blue is quickly becoming her favourite colour.

“Indeed I am,” he says.

 

* * *

 

“Marinette.”

“Luka.”

_“Marinette.”_

“Just a little longer, Luka,” Marinette mumbles around the pins in her mouth. “Almost done with the fitting.”

“I can't feel my arms.”

“You don't need to feel your arms to wear the suit.”

“No, but I do need them to play the guitar,” Luka says weakly. “I swear they're about to fall off soon. Mercy, please.”

Marinette considers it. “Alright. Ten minute snack break, then I want you up here and arms out like before with no excuses.”

Luka collapses face first onto Marinette's bed. His groan is muffled by her mattress.

 

* * *

 

“So I don't think I've asked this question yet,” Luka says, in the middle or playing his music. “But who, of our highly esteemed hero lineup, would be your favourite?”

Marinette puts down her sketchpad from where she's sitting across Luka's room. “That's the kind of question that could break friendships in this city. “Any particular reason why?”

“Not really.” Luka plucks arpeggios on his guitar. “Simple curiosity, I guess.”

Speaking of curiosity reminds Marinette of her sly, ironically, partner in crime. Although she doesn't return his romantic feelings, she will always have room in her heart for him.

“I have a soft spot for Chat,” Marinette says with a small smile. “His puns are ridiculous. He saved me from the Evillustrator, you know.”

“Really? I usually imagined that you are always the one doing the saving, no?” Luka says. “Then again, my opinion is a little biased.”

Marinette almost blushed. _If he only knew,_ she thinks.

She can already imagine Tikki snickering at the whole situation.

“Who's your favourite?” Marinette asks.

“Hmm,” Luka says. “My answer may be a little controversial.”

“I promise I won't judge.”

She might a little. Let's be honest.

“My favorite is Viperion, you can say.”

“Oh, okay,” Marinette says. “That's. Interesting.”

“I can hear you judging.”

“I'm not judging!” Marinette puts her hands up. “I'm only curious if there's any particular reason why?”

Luka pauses to tap a finger on his chin. “It's the ego I can most relate to, I suppose,” he says carefully.

That surprises Marinette. “Alright. I'm _very_ interested to know why now.”

Luka waves at her. “You go first. What about me and Viperion confuses you?”

“Well,” Marinette says. “You're very considerate and conscious of the law and of other people. Not that Viperion isn't. He's very careful not to cause casualties. He's just… more ruthless when it comes to his brand of justice.”

“And you don't approve of that?”

“Most of the times, I don't, but I won't lie; sometimes his targets truly deserve it,” Marinette admits. “Mostly I worry that his target will become more vulnerable to being akumatized—I don't know. He confuses me, I guess.”

Luka breathes out, and he looks oddly relieved for some reason. “So it's not outright distaste, then?” he asks.

“No,” Marinette says. “I'm glad he provides some sort of closure for those who have been wronged. No matter how unorthodox his methods might be.”

“If it helps,” Luka points out, “Part of the reason I like him is because of that same closure he brings to the victims of the perpetrators. At the end of the day, they are the ones who deserve it the most. They would've had a much higher chance of being akumatized without it.”

Marinette takes a few seconds to process his words. “I've never thought of that,” she admits more to herself than to Luka. “Maybe I've been too harsh on Viperion. This is definitely some food for thought.”

“Don't lose sleep over it,” he says. “You know, that saying is pretty fitting given that I'm the best cook in the family.”

It's not the first time she's heard the claim; Juleka said the same thing as well. Marinette thinks of the first time she tried to teach him how to cook congee and how Luka managed to burn the pot black because he got distracted from his guitar.

“Oh dear,” she says.

 

* * *

 

Marinette has been stewing over Luka's words since the last conversation.

It doesn't sit well with her that she failed to give Viperion the benefit of the doubt. And although Ladybug has faced off against the ruthless side of him, it's only because he has seen the same of her and her conviction of bringing him to conventional justice.

So Marinette does what she does best; She picks up her sketchbook and begins planning.

She sews and sews and sews until she has a scarf that's almost triple her arm span, in the same colours of Viperion's costumes.

She leaves the scarf gift-wrapped outside her balcony. In its place the next day is a note that brings a big grin on her face.

_Thank you._

_-V_

 

* * *

 

“There's a new girl in school,” Marinette yells over the cacophony of screaming in the background. “I'm not sure I like her.”

She decided to show Luka her family's favourite Yum Cha place. Loud, crowded, and efficiently snappy waitresses. It feels like home. Her parents turned down their invitation while sharing small, sly glances between them and Marinette.

Marinette tries not to think about it even though her heart feels like she's running a marathon.

Luka pauses from where he's biting around the bones of his chicken feet. Marinette is quite surprised at how eager Luka is to eat everything. And when he said everything, he means _everything._

She pushes the bamboo steamer of her favourite xiao long bao closer to him.

Luka nods his thanks, cheeks puffy like a chipmunk. “Oh?  How so?”

Marinette sighs. “Well,” she begins.

And she tells him about Lila. Lila and her lies and her threats and how everybody but her is falling for it.

“I'm just… _hurt,_ I guess,” Marinette says. “No one believes me. Not even Alya—my _best friend_. She acts like I was just being petty and baseless and shallow. Is that how she truly thinks of me? After all these years?”

“That's silly. Alya's being silly,” Luka says. “ Lila sounds like an obvious attention seeker. Surely not _everybody_ believes all her outlandish tale? _”_

“Not everybody,” Marinette says. “There's—”

She breaks off, chewing on her lip.

“There's?” Luka prompts.

“There's Adrien,” Marinette says.

Luka's jaw tightens.

Marinette frowns. “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you find him distasteful.”

“I don't,” he tells her. “I think that he's a very nice person.”

Marinette slants him a look.

He puts his hands up. “I do! I just don't understand why he isn't backing you up in this situation. He knows how horribly this Lila girl is treating you. Why would he just let it all slide?”

Marinette was trying to avoid this. Luka's disapproval about Adrien. She doesn't know why Luka's approval of Adrien is so _important_ to her, but it just _does_.

“I trust him,” Marinette says.

Luka rests his chopsticks on top of his bowl. “But does he deserve your trust?”

“He does.”

“By letting everyone assume the absolute _worst_ of you?”

Marinette looks away. “He has his reasons.”

“What reason is worth you being miserable?”

“I'm not miserable,” she denies.

“You didn't even fight me for the baos today,” he says. “And you usually trounce me for soup dumplings.”

Marinette almost pouts. “I'm not," she insists.

Not miserable yet at least.

“Should I talk to Juleka?”

“No,” she says. “I want to see how it goes. I have faith in my friends. They'll slip from under her thumbs.”

“Okay,” he says. “But remember that I'm always here if you need me.”

He puts a couple of xiao long bao on her plate. She didn't realise that he saved some for her. The sentiment makes her smile.

“I know,” she says. “If all else fails, I'll always have you.”

 

* * *

 

Marinette was adamant about her friends coming around. They will.  They've been through so many things together and their friendship only became stronger because of it—

—didn't they?

Marinette could handle a lot of things; working long hours for no recognition, broken bones aching, being thrown through a wall—but she can't—she can't _stand_ the way her friends had so easily cut her out of their life.

Did they really think her so petty? Did they think her so shallow?  

Did they think her so callous and cruel that she was capable of being the horrible person Lila accused her of being?

Alya made her sit in the back. Alya made Marinette, her ‘supposed’ best friend give up her seat for her boyfriend knowing how special the seat was for her. Knowing how hard she worked to be included in the group. Knowing how hard she cared for the people in said group.

And they all acted like _she_ was the one who _overreacted_.

Marinette can't handle that.

After her and Lila's confrontation in the bathroom, Tikki flies out from the pocket of her jacket. “Call him,” Tikki says. “You'll feel better afterwards.”

“But he might be in class.”

While Tikki nuzzles into her cheek, Marinette makes a split second decision and settles for texting.

_M: Do you have next period free?_

_L: No._

_L: But it could be._

_L: Meet u at boba?_

Usually, Marinette would feel immensely bad for making Luka miss class as well but…

_M: Will be there in 10._

—

Luka doesn't push her to talk. He doesn't demand anything of her. He doesn't accuse her of anything. He is just there, volunteering himself as pillow, playing sombre ballads on his guitar as they sit under a tree. 

His shirt smells grassy, like it has been rolling out in the field during a sunny day, and it would have made her nose itch if she wasn't smooshing her nose against the side of his arm. But she doesn't mind. Underneath the smell of grass and sun is Luka. It comforts her.

Marinette should talk about her feelings. It feels so much like  _betrayal_ from her closest friends, and the wound rips apart anew everytime she thinks about them. It will be better once she lets all the hurt bleed out from her body instead of letting it poison her systems. She really should just let it all out. 

But she's so _exhausted,_ and she doesn't want to think or _feel_ anything other than how Luka is soft and comfortable and reassuring in his presence.

Later, she decides. She'll give herself this moment to rest.   

She can fix herself back up later.

 

* * *

 

The last person Marinette expected to catch when she sat on her balcony was Viperion himself, but there he was, sitting on the handrail as if he was waiting for her.

And maybe he was.

“I heard what happened today,” he says.

Marinette stiffens on reaction.

“I'm… glad you weren't akumatized.”

She slumps down into one of the balcony chairs, rubbing at her face. “Me too,” she finally says. “Believe me, it was a really close call.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” she says. “How much has Luka told you?”

Viperion doesn't reply, probably trying to protect the identity of his source, but Marinette hasn't told her parents, so who else would worry about her this much?

“Don't worry, I'm not mad at him.” She puts her head in her hands. “I know he wants what's best for me.”

“He just wants you to be okay.”

“I'm starting to be okay. I already know what he wants me to do.”

“And your answer is?”

“Two wrongs don't make a right, Viperion,” Marinette says. “I have to let it go. This will get better. I just need to believe that.”

“It's not just about petty revenge, you realise,” he tells her. “It's about holding people accountable for their actions.”

“I just don't think this situation deserves such a drastic intervention.”

“So you don’t think that you deserve the justice?” Viperion asks. “Or that their actions deserve consequences? Or even that your anger is valid?”

Marinette doesn’t reply.

Viperion sighs, and something about the way he does it, his exasperation, reminds her of Luka when he calms down her anxieties. “Alright,” he concedes. “I won’t do anything if you don’t want me to.”

Marinette blinks in surprise. She's so used to Chat pushing his feelings onto her in hopes that it'll persuade her that a simple ‘alright catches her off guard.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“If you don't want me to do anything, I won't,” he says. “That’s always with the case with the people I visit. But Marinette, you deserve so much more than what’s been given to you.”

“I don't—well—thank you, Viperion,” she says quietly. “Thank you for saying that. That means the world to me.”

Viperion gives her a kind smile and it softens his whole face.

They slip into silence. This time, however, the silence feels more peaceful than before.

Viperion turns to her. “Can I say something?”

“Sure. Of course.”

“I think you were to call on Rossi’s lies,” Viperion says. “You're an extraordinarily brave girl,  Marinette. By facing up to Lila and trying to make her stop, you're also standing for all the future people she would have victimised.”

“I… I never thought of that,” Marinette admits.

“Sometimes, it really is easier to fight for other people than for yourself. But remember that you're not alone, Marinette. You don't have to carry all your burdens by yourself. Let others help.”

Marinette considers him with a curious glance. “You're not at all what I expected,” Marinette says. “I knew you were kind but… I never knew you are so sweet to other people. You must be, if you're one of Luka's friends.”

“That won't do for the cold, reserved image I'm trying to retain,” Viperion says. “Can I trust you to keep the secret for me?”

Marinette mimes zipping her mouth and Viperion grins.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” she says.

Viperion’s belt beeps. He jumps onto his feet. “That's my cue.”

“Wait.”

He pauses in his step.

“Thank you, Viperion.”

Viperion tilts his face, before breaking into a big smile that lights the blank sky more than the street lights do.

Her heart trips a step.

_Oh no._

Viperion flourishes a deep bow for her and jumps over the railing. Marinette watches as he leaps from rooftop to rooftop.

Marinette hugs her knees. “Great going, Marinette,” she says. “You finally get over Adrien only to fall for the next two guys you meet. Good job.”

 

* * *

 

Marinette quickly finds a niche for herself in the library. Doing most of her work during her breaks means that she has more time to spend with Luka and her parents after school. The silence, she finds, isn't lonely at all. In fact, it's refreshing. Almost soothing.

She extracts herself from all her group chats. She blocks most of the numbers on her phone.

And soon, after Lila has finally admitted to lying and manipulating those around her, Marinette much prefers the silence over the overtures of her old friends. No matter how much Alya's face falls when Marinette ignores her, Marinette refuses to go back as before, back when she thought they were thick as thieves. 

After all, if they were as close as she thought they’d been, they wouldn't have fallen for Lila's lies in the first place.

 

* * *

 

Every time she hugs her parents she remembers it. Every time Luka glows with his smile she remembers it. Every time Viperion stops by her balcony she remembers it.

_You're not alone._

“Are you ready, Tikki?” she says.  

Tikki zooms up to her face. “As ready as I'll ever be.”

“Do you think I'm making the right decision?”

“If you trust him then I do too,” Tikki says. “It's not the first time a Ladybug has told someone other than Chat Noir who they were. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised with his reaction!”

“Right, right,” Marinette says to herself. “I just have to trust that it'll be okay.”

Just then, Marinette hears her mum and Luka's voice echoing downstairs.

“Oh! He's almost here!”

Tikki flies inside Marinette's bag just as Luka bounds up the stairs with his guitar case.

“Hi,” he says, resting his guitar case by her table. “It's funny that you called saying that you needed to tell me something. I was about to do the same thing. Great minds think alike it seems.”

Despite his light hearted banter, Luka looks a little distressed.

Worry instantly swells in her. “Is everything alright?”

Luka gives her a shaky smile. “It will be—only—”

He takes both of her hands and squeezes them.

All of a sudden, breathing doesn't seem as important to her.

“I care about you,” Luka says. “Nothing about what I'm about to say will ever change how I feel. But you should sit down for this. There's something I need to tell you.”

**Author's Note:**

> The devil works hard but my love for rere works harder. 
> 
> Lukanette 4 lyf.


End file.
